


[͢҉END ̢L҉̛҉Į̨Ņ͝E̶̢̢]͏

by electroheartx



Series: “Rose” RM500 #928 574 624 [8]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: AU, OCs - Freeform, RP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-25 00:36:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17111111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electroheartx/pseuds/electroheartx
Summary: Out.





	[͢҉END ̢L҉̛҉Į̨Ņ͝E̶̢̢]͏

**Author's Note:**

> [Part of a post-machine Connor ending AU featuring original characters.]

Silver-blonde hair, dull eyes flashed the color of mercury. An explosion -- the bullet nested itself instantly in the center of Rose’s primary processor, winding itself in a warm blanket of blossoming seafoam. Rose registered only briefly that they were falling; the color and the noise overwhelmed them then, a cacophonous scream of neon seas and static, the sound growing ever louder as random memories misfired on the acid backdrop -- Reese, hands warm and rough -- Steady and the scent of fresh coffee -- a peal of Aria's laughter --  sparkling strings of lights in the safe house -- 170 different faces, emerald eyes, a curtain of dark hair -- Eleven, irises drawn to a luminous red slit -- the shrieking phantom, something attached to its amorphous figure that Rose reached for, a sound low and soft, a name beginning with R -- Reese again, calling their name, was that their name? What… what was their n̶͡a̴̧̕me̷̕͘?

 

Not̕h̡i͟ng͟ and everything was real̨ at once -- the sc҉r̨ea͜m͠s turned to r҉o̶͢ar̕͡i͢ņ͢g͝͏, drowning all el҉se ̡o̡ut, the V.E. w̕r͞i̷t̸h͏in͝g ͝in ͘the ͢fin͝a͢l ̨th͏r̡o̴es of a creature des͡pȩr̸a͞t͜e to survive --

 

t ͞h ̡e ͟n,͘

 

N̨͠ ̴͜o̴͡ ̵̧ ̡̕͜t͝͡ ̶̶̢ ͘͟͠ ̷̕h̴̸͢͠ ̸̸ ͟͏͜i̵̡͠ ̨̨͘͠ ͞҉̨͘ ̵n̕҉ ̴̢͡ ̶͘͢ ̴͏̴g̡.̶̕̕

 

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Rose lurched out of standby violently, erupting into darkness. Their awakening was so sudden they hadn’t quite had time to boot properly, their senses and movements still calibrating. The force of their seizure tilted their body -- “forward,” their servos told them, then “left,” as their legs made a feeble attempt to balance -- they slammed against a wall, could hear things falling from shelves nearby through muffled processors. They pressed their hands against the cool surface to stabilize themselves, realizing only after a moment that they were gasping for air they didn’t need. Snapping their mouth shut, they slid slowly to the floor, clinging to the wall until their processes oriented properly.

 

A few year-long seconds ticked by in their internal clock, until finally, color and light flickered into view, the muffled silence blossoming into the clear hum of an empty space. They were alone, in their room, crumpled in the corner near their bed. Figures and books from the shelves littered the floor. Someone had probably heard the crash, if -- was anyone home?

 

<You alright in there?> A ping from Reese, and Rose breathed.

 

<Yeah, I’m fine, I just tripped over something.>

 

An echo of throbbing in their skull. _Yeah, I'm fine._ Trembling, they pressed a hand to their temple, fingers brushing the smooth ridges of their LED -- its indented ring a perfect echo of the bullet’s path through their skull.

 

Sudden panic struck them then, like the pluck of a guitar string. Out. _OUT!_ The V.E. howled, echoing the cry: they needed it _out right now,_  the ring threatening to bore inward and repeat its journey to the center of Rose's consciousness.The quiet sound of terrified scrabbling filled the room, fingers of both hands digging into their skin, desperate to hook their nails beneath the ring’s near-seamless bevel. Pulling with all of their power until the plastic groaned, cracked, split -- stretching until Rose could bear it no longer, either the disc or the nails would go first -- and with a final pop, the LED gave up, spinning freely into the deepest corner beneath a nearby dresser. It rotated to a slow stop like a sick coin of fate, heads-up and glowing a deceptively serene shade of [#59c9dc].

 

The panic receded nearly as suddenly as it came. Rose looked at their nails; their fingertips (and presumably their temple) were smeared with a dim [#28757f], minor damage from the disc’s edge. Simple to heal. What was _more_ troubling was the… _why?_ They weren’t prone to impulse or sudden panic attacks, but in the moment the fear had felt Real, Immediate, as though the threat -- the gun -- no, moreso what was on the _other_ end of said gun -- were in the room with them, aimed directly at them.

 

Rose curled in on themselves with their head on their knees, frowning in silence and confusion at the calm ring of light beneath the dresser, allowing the calm in the quiet room around them to sink beneath their skin and push the last remnants of panic away.

 

They’d… they’d planned on getting rid of their LED soon, anyway.


End file.
